


[life)[story)

by tigriswolf



Series: written for school [33]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Autobiography, Family, Gen, Growing Up, Personal Growth, Poetry, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 18:11:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15125084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: I look back.





	[life)[story)

**Author's Note:**

> Written April - June 2018
> 
> Kind of a found poem, compiled from poems I've written, but also there's new stuff in it. Written for school, except the parts that were written for me. 
> 
> Yeah, it's weird.

 

[begin story]

 

i look back.

 

        i miss              a little girl who doesn’t exist anymore,

 

                  just like

 

        i miss              how simple those days were.

        i miss              an ideal, an idea, a memory.

 

[regret? sometimes.

                        hold to it?

                                                                                    … maybe]

 

i want to tell that girl i was

_it’s alright, it’ll be alright,_

_you’re not wrong._

_you’re not incomplete._

_you’re not broken_

_and it’s not your fault_

_you don’t understand._

_it’s not a problem to be fixed._ [hindsight is the worst]

i want to tell that girl i was

 _even when you’re almost thirty,_ [30 now wtf]

_you’re still looking for who you are_

_but you’ll get there, baby girl,_

_you’ll get there._ [hope hurts]

i want to tell her,

 _you’re not broken for what you can’t do_ [remember]

 _you’re not broken for what you don’t feel_ [remember]

_you’re not broken for what you don’t understand._

_baby girl, you’re not broken in the least._ [remember]

 

i used to wonder

          if my clever little sister was smarter than me.      

but                                                                                                      [realize:         

         if my brain worked like my sister’s,                                             you’re equally smart

                                                                                                            in different ways]

         would i have learned

                               to write,         

                                   to read,

         would i look around the world and see                  

                               unwritten poetry,

who would i be?

 

[my life’s philosophy]

my mother says i am

a romantic with the soul of a poet—

so i’ll find my truth for myself

and i’ll be content

because stories are what i know

and telling stories is what i do

and questioning in order to create

is what i was born for.

 

            [mo(u)rning]

dreaming.

asleep or awake?

yes.

always yes.

minutes days weeks,

months are gone

but it feels like just yesterday—

                  the pain turns to a memory  
                  that hits suddenly,  
                  in flashes like lightning,  
                  in waves like thunder.

 

i wonder:

will i ever stop expecting the worst?

 

[scent: smoke                         taste: ash       

feel: oh god it hurts               see: he’ll never be there again        

hear: glass shatters               hear: sirens and sobbing

                                                                                    you’re crying.

                                                                                    stop crying.

                                                it’s a dream.

                                    you’ll wake up.

            you haven’t woken up.

you’re not dreaming.]

 

                                                 [relief?

                                                          healing?

                                                 what is healing?

                                                 when am i healed?]

 

[family:

we sit around the table long into the night,

cups refilled endlessly, nibbling on fruit and crackers,

telling well-worn stories and ancient in-jokes—

they haven’t been funny in years but we laugh every time.]

 

 

(things i believed when i was five:  
daddy's as tall as a tree  
and mama's always right  
and i'll always be bigger  
than my baby sister  
and my big sister will always  
be able to help me  
and my brother's the best  
and the dog lives forever  
and one day,  
one day,  
i'll know what to do no matter what,  
one day when i'm grown up like you.)

 

                                                              [grown up:

                                                                  no fucking clue what to do.

                                                                   take a breath.

                                                                    keep going.]

 

[what

who

why am i?]

            [remember]

 

 

                                                                                                                   write that i wrote.

 

                                                                                             write that i _never_ stopped.

 

                                                                            write that someone somewhere

 

                                                                                              will _read_ what i have w r i t t e n

 

                                                                                                            and write that they will **remember**.

 

 

 

[and…

 

scene]


End file.
